


A New Experiment

by theimprobable1



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimprobable1/pseuds/theimprobable1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Virgin!Sherlock and John try to have sex for the first time. It doesn't go quite as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt.](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/7277.html?thread=36486509#t36486509) Unbetaed.

John’s tongue is broad and slick in Sherlock’s mouth, the sheets cool under his naked back but warming quickly. John is kissing him hungrily and his hands are everywhere at once, Sherlock’s neck and left nipple and hip and oh, nobody has ever touched him there, his body is on fire even as John’s lips leave a wet cooling trail on his chest and stomach and lower, _oh_ , John’s fingers in his pubic hair, John’s tongue circling the base of his penis, his _brain_ is on fire. Of course he doesn’t have any STDs, but John cannot possibly know that for sure, he shouldn’t be doing this without protection, he’s a doctor, he should know, surely he knows, the risk is lower than with anal or vaginal sex but it still exists, John shouldn’t run unnecessary risks, not John, never John, maybe he doesn’t like the taste of condoms, Sherlock has never tasted any but he doesn’t suppose it’s very pleasant, though they do sell flavoured ones nowadays, surely there must be a flavour John likes, he likes strawberry jam, maybe strawberry then, surely they have strawberry-flavoured condoms, Sherlock never checked, but it’s one of the most often used flavours anywhere, ice cream, yogurts and things, he must ask John but now it’s too late, he’s doing it, _oh god_ , it’s also extremely unhygienic, Sherlock should have taken a bath before or at least a quick shower, why do people want to have other people’s genitals in their mouths, it’s stupid, it doesn’t make any sense, why does John want to do it, it must be uncomfortable, isn’t his jaw hurting, of course Sherlock would do it for John even if it hurt if it was what John wanted, maybe John thinks Sherlock wants it and so he’s doing it for him, of course, Sherlock should like it, people are supposed to like this, stimulation of erectile tissue, rising hormone levels, increased heart rate, closeness of the loved one, loved one yes John, it shouldn’t feel like this, like his body is being high-jacked, like the world is attacking his blood cells and there is not enough air to breathe, breathing’s boring but you have to breathe anyway, he’s 32 not a teenage girl, why cannot he take it, it’s easy everyone does it even stupid people even animals, John likes it, it’s easy and good and pleasurable it has to be, but it’s not it’s not it’s not, it should be like his occasional masturbation in the shower only better, but it isn’t, his brain is dissolving in endorphins, he wants to stop, breathe feel think, he cannot, it’s too bright loud sharp hot, cold slick pressure against his anus and then inside, John’s left index finger just to the first knuckle, it’s not a place that’s meant to be touched, he should but it’s not, how is he supposed to take any more, John, how why, _John John John -_

“John.”

It’s normal to call out your lover’s name during sex, he knows it is, but his tone must be off, because John stiffens immediately ( _is he uncomfortable, he shouldn’t be, it’s not his fault, never his_ ). the wet heat leaves his penis, the burning pressure inside him disappears. Sherlock gulps air like he’s been underwater for two and half minutes.

“What’s wrong?” John asks, low, hoarse, caring, worried. His hand on Sherlock’s hip. “Do you want me to stop?”

Is he angry, he doesn’t sound angry just breathless, uncertain, why are Sherlock’s eyes closed he doesn’t remember closing them, he cannot open them not yet, John is kind, he loves Sherlock he told him so, he wants him to feel good, he won’t be angry please he won’t

“Yes,” he breathes, though the air still doesn’t have enough oxygen in it. “Please stop.”

John shifts, his hands move to Sherlock’s face. Gentle touch. Comforting.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks softly.

Sherlock shakes his head vehemently. _Not John’s fault._

“What is it, then?” His thumb draws a soothing circle on Sherlock’s cheek.

“Too much,” he whispers. He doesn’t know how to explain it. It feels like his nerve endings nearly short-circuited.

“You don’t like penetration?” There’s no impatience in his voice, no anger, no disappointment, just concern. “Or blowjobs?”

Sherlock doesn’t answer. It’s not so simple, it’s not one thing.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” John whispers in Sherlock’s hair, “you just have to tell me. I need to know what not to do again.”

Sherlock opens his eyes. John is looking at him with so much tenderness it takes Sherlock’s breath away all over again. This time, it feels good.

“I don’t know,” he says stiffly. It doesn’t really answer John’s questions, but Sherlock’s mind feels like it’s been wiped clean, there are no answers

John strokes his hair slowly, thoughtfully.

“Is it... you haven’t done this before, have you?” Of course John has worked it out.

“No.”

John won’t laugh at him, won’t mock him, he wouldn’t, he might pity him, though, he might think, poor Sherlock, never found anyone, no wonder he’s the way he is if nobody ever loved him, or maybe, deep down, even though he won’t say it, he might think, _freak,_ it’s not normal, not at his age.

John keeps stroking his hair. He kisses Sherlock’s forehead gently.

“You should have told me,” he whispers. Sherlock can feel his breath against his skin. “I wouldn’t have rushed you.”

“I’m sorry.” _How could he have let John down like this, John deserves everything he wants._

“No, no,” John says hastily and kisses Sherlock’s hairline again. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I understand.” He hesitates. “I suppose it was too much new data at the same time? A little overwhelming?”

“A little.” An understatement.

John withdraws a little. “Do you need time on your own? To process it, or something? I can go and make you some tea.”

Sherlock takes hold of John’s shoulder. The world still feels like it has too many sharp edges, he cannot let John leave, the only solid, unmovable thing in the universe. He’s used to grabbing John’s shirt or jumper, he doesn’t know how to touch him when he’s naked. It’s awkward.

“No, stay.”

John smiles a little. He wraps his arms around Sherlock and draws him close. John is still hard, Sherlock can feel it against his thigh, through the cotton of John’s pants. This must have been a thoroughly unsatisfying experience for him, they’ve only been together for a few hours and Sherlock has already failed, already disappointed him. He knew he wouldn’t be any good at this, he knew, John deserves better, so much better.

“Shh,” John murmurs in his ear. “Relax. Everything’s all right. We have time. We’ll take it slowly, and next time I’ll make sure you’re fine.”

Next time. What if it won’t be any better next time? What if Sherlock again won’t be able to go through with it? He cannot imagine ever being able to go through with it, his veins shrinking, the world collapsing around him, inside him. How long will John’s patience last? Will he leave if Sherlock fails again?

John presses soft kisses on Sherlock’s ear and neck. He rubs his back: steady, calming pressure.

“Don’t worry, we won’t do anything until you’re ready. We can take as long as you need. There’s no hurry.” John speaks quietly, soft, comforting words, “You’re okay” and “I’ve got you” and “It’s all right” and “I love you.” John’s heartbeat is strong and steady against Sherlock’s chest, his scent intensely familiar. Sherlock is beginning to feel a bit more like himself.

Which of course also means he realises how pathetic he’s being. Sexual intercourse is a basic form of human behaviour, deeply ingrained in instincts. How could Sherlock not manage something so simple? His body is just transport, after all. He shouldn’t lose control over it like that. Why can’t he be normal in the most elementary aspect of being human? He’s holding on to John like a frightened animal. It’s pathetic. Ridiculous. What must John be thinking? He’s probably still here only because Sherlock asked him to, he’s probably already thinking about how to let Sherlock down gently so he can go and find someone normal to be with.

He buries his face in John’s shoulder, breathing deeply.

“Stop thinking,” John whispers in his hair. “Your brain’s already going a mile a minute again, isn’t it? Stop thinking. Also, if you wouldn’t mind not crushing my shoulder...” Sherlock’s fingers are pressing into John’s skin, his knuckles white. He didn’t even realise. He lets go immediately.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. At least it wasn’t John’s bad shoulder.

John lifts Sherlock’s head gently and kisses his lips.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he breathes into Sherlock’s mouth. “Stop worrying. Everything’s fine, and it will get even better, I promise.” He kisses him again. “Do you believe me?”

John cannot know that. Everything could go to hell tomorrow. But John said he’s not going to leave. That’s enough. He wouldn’t deliberately deceive Sherlock. He wants to stay. With Sherlock. Despite everything.

Sherlock snuggles closer.

“Yes.”

He’ll make sure that John never has any reason to leave. He’ll try his best. John will help him. He always does.

“Good,” John smiles. New wrinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. Sherlock kisses them on impulse. “Now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, and we’ll make pancakes for breakfast.”

Sherlock should never have let John meet Mummy. She shared her family pancake recipe with him and now John knows how to make Sherlock eat under any circumstances.

“You make them,” Sherlock mutters. “I need to start a new experiment.”

He’s going to buy flavoured condoms, test them and then select the brand and flavour most suitable for John’s enjoyment. Next time has to be perfect, and Sherlock is not leaving anything to chance.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [【翻译】崭新的尝试](https://archiveofourown.org/works/925634) by [rosyrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosyrain/pseuds/rosyrain)




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